Splinched
by AtomicSoprano
Summary: Hermione is left to Scabior and the Snatchers by Harry and Ron when the Order rescue them from the Forrest. Will be M for later chapters but drama, hurt, romance and plot twists ensured. HG/S/LM
1. Chapter 1

_**Splinched**_

Harry and Ron have been rescued by the Order and Hermione is left to Scabior and the Snatchers.

* * *

'Looks like you're with us beautiful.'

His hungry eyes searched over the girl now held up by Fenrir and one of the other Snatchers. Her eyes glared back at him with rage. It was too early for hate. She would learn to hate him and then fear him, have no doubt about that. For now rage would do.

'We camp 'ere. An' shut 'er up. Otherwise I will.' A grimace painting Scabiors face with these words.

Hermione stopped her struggles instantly.

Shit. She knew what that meant. She guessed what it meant but she had a pretty good guess at what that meant. She looked down at herself. The battle to escape before and left her with blood drying on her hands and head, her knees absorbing the blood from her bleeding knees. Otherwise she felt sore and bruised, hoping that the pain shooting up her right shoulder was simply a very bruised shoulder and not a broken arm.

How could they leave her. Her? Hermione Granger? The brightest witch of her age left to fend for herself. On one level it made sense: Harry would always be the priority and logically she should be able to work out how to escape successfully and return to the Order in the quickest time.

Logically.

But why not at least try to rescue her instead of being content they had got Harry. Did she mean that little to the Order? Was she really so worthless as everyone had always said?

'Oi beautiful. Get 'ere.'

She looked up to see Scabior standing outside a faded yellowing tent. She swallowed and breathed.

She put her right foot forward before falling straight to the ground, mud covering her face. The Snatchers turned and howled at her, jeering as she tried to get herself up. One came and kicked her hands out from beneath her so she fell back down on her right shoulder. She winced as the pain shot up her arm like a cannon ball.

Fuck. Why today? Why her? She fought back tears welling up inside her. She couldn't let them win. They wouldn't win. There was nothing to win.

'Oi, Oi! Can 'er majesty not get off the floor or do I 'av to drag 'er?' jeered Scabior.

This was going to be easy. She'd last an hour at tops before begging for mercy. He always liked it when they begged. No he liked it just before they begged when the light went out in their eyes. That way he knew he'd won. That they'd never say no.

He waited a moment, watching her as the Snatchers started circling the her. He knew he should let them have their fun. If they didn't have at least two fights a day then trouble would always come up. But he quite wanted the girl today and not about to break before he got her to the bed.

'OI! Leave 'er! Go find somethin' for later.'

'But you always take 'hem.' shouted one of the Snatchers, grabbing Hermione by the hair.

'Yeah when 're we gettin' one?' 'When I say you can 'av one an' right now this one's mine.' growled Scabior, snatching Hermione back and pulling her up so he could throw her over his shoulder.

Hermione screamed involuntarily. She didn't mean to scream. She couldn't let them know her fear. She could let him know of all people. She kicked herself.

Stupid Hermione. Stupid stupid Hermione.

She tried to roll off Scabiors shoulder, desperate to not enter the tent. Her wild legs hit Scabior in the stomach, winding him as she let rip and screamed out.

'Bitch SHUT IT!' earning her a slap on the arse and the Snatchers wolf whistles as they both entered the tent.

God help her

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_Disclaimer_ I do not own the characters nor the cover image. JK Rowling and ?q=scabior+hermione#/art/Scabior-and-Hermione-188902833?_sid=73cba223 own characters and the cover image


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione found herself hitting the ground suddenly. Her increasingly battered body was really having a hell of a day.

She looked up to see Scabior heading over to pick up a bottle of Firewhiskey. Looking up made her head spin side to side and Hermione realise she hadn't eaten anything since the morning. The change of it all. That morning she'd been sitting with Harry and Ron, getting ready to see Xenophilius Lovegood and now … well it wasn't even worth giving it the dignity of thought.

'You just gonna sit there?'

She looked around. It wasn't much. A side table and chair sat on one side with Scabior now downing the bottle of Firewhiskey, the majority of the tent being taken up by the thread worn rug she now sat on and the large, putrid smelling bed Hermione now looked at with dread. She could already feel herself tensing at the thought, the fear, the knowledge of what would happen.

'Oi! Get up,' the Firewhiskey Scabior now dangled in front of Hermione. She shook her head.

'Your loss.' He smiled as he gulped the rest of the bottle down and threw it across the tent, smashing against the wooden pole holding the tent up, enjoying watching the girl jump back as the glass scattered across the floor.

He observed her a minute. He hated it when hey just sat there. They were no fun. He expected more from her. He'd read the newspaper articles. 'The brightest witch of her age' it had said. Well, clearly not. Nor was she the prettiest although that didn't always mean everything. Dear God she didn't even look at him.

What's your name again?'

'Penelope Clearwater.'

'Nah,' standing up at this point.

'See, if you were then why would the boys there called you somethin' else?'

Silence.

'Look, you can just sit there and pretend your … whatever an' I'll have some fun with ya, an' we will have fun, and you'll go cryin' cause I didn't scream your name or you can tell me know an' I scream your real name first time. Either way I'll get it outta ya.'

She glared up, her eyes sore with crying.

'Then what difference does it make?' she spat out.

'Hey, hey easy. Save that for later.' Swaggering over to her before dropping down on his knees. He brought out a finger and let it circle her face, her eyes never leaving his.

'You know what? I'm gonna enjoy this.' His finger drawing itself down her bloodied neck. She couldn't hold it much longer. Her arm now began shaking as his finger headed down further, holding her breast before clumsily kneading it. Tears began to well up inside Hermione, the shame, the disgust, the horror of him touching her this way. This shouldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening.

'Heeeey heeey ssh now' the hand leaving her breast to silence her sobs, 'We don't want you cryin' do we. Otherwise then, I will have to punish ya.'

Hermione leapt up, panic taking over her body. She started to circle the tent, desperately searching the tent for something, anything. She could feel his eyes burrowing into her as he stood upon and started to walk towards her. She started to back away, not sure where she was going til,

'Ahhhhh!' She looked down to see herself standing in the glass, blood trickling out from beneath her feet. Terror gripped her, tears running off her face. Where was Harry? Where was Ron? Why her? Anyone but her please.

'Please,' she begged, looking up to see Scabiors drunken smile.

'Tell me your name.'

'You know my name.'

'No. I want you to tell me,' his face now directly in front of her. She stepped back, wincing at the glass digging into the soles of her feet.

'Pleeease.'

'TELL ME YOUR NAME!' hitting the wooden pole Hermione now hit, the tent shaking as Hermione slid down the pole, too scared to look at him anymore. Too scared to defend herself anymore. Scabior bent down, grabbing her chin as she screwed her eyes.

'Tell me your name or I will hurt you. An' I will enjoy it. An' then I'll go an' get everyone else an' trust me they will enjoy rippin' your sweet sorry cunt apart an' makin you scream so much that you won't even remember your name. So just say it.'

She opened her eyes, staring into his clear blue eyes staring right back into hers as she took a a breath in to whisper,

'Hermione Granger.'

'Good girl. Now do I have to pick you up as well?'

She shook her head. Her arms began to shake uncontrollably as she readied herself up, the glass clinging to her hands as she back at the floor, tears mixing with her blood. She felt Scabior's finger wipe away a tear as she felt his body press up against hers.

'Now then, Hermione, ladies first.'

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Hope you're enjoying this and let me know where you think should be going.


	3. Chapter 3

_They were running. They were running through the forrest again. She turned to cast a spell. Her heartbeat thudding inside her. A spell shot past her. She jumped over a fallen tree, not looking back, her sides killing her. Splinters scattered above her head. She could hear Ron cry out. She sped up, catching up to Harry. They tripped over their feet. Another spell went past them. They scrambled to their feet, their hands pricked by pine needles. They could hear Ron shouting and swearing before a scream. _

_A flash forward. Chains tackled her down to the ground. She cried out, her right shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. She tried to move. She struggled against the chains but they just tightened around her, cutting into her skin. _

_She could feel two hands pull her up, the chains melt away. She could feel the bruises growing as the hands dragged her across to Harry and Ron's shouts._

_Two eyes._

_Her pink scarf._

_A touch on her neck._

_She looked up to see those eyes. Cold. Unkind. Empty._

Hermione jolted up wide awake. She could feel her heart beating against her chest, her breathing heavy.

Fear hit her again as last nights events rushed back to her. She coiled back in horror. She remember his touch; his hands running through her hair, his wandering hands pulling and tugging and her breasts, his hands spreading her legs apart just before he entered her, before he thrust into her, before he ...

She shuddered and suddenly realised she was holding her breath. She let go, breathing in the foul scents of last night's 'activities'.

She suddenly felt sore and looked down at herself.

A dirty white linen sheet splattered with blood covered her naked body. She looked down at herself to see bruises coming up black and yellow on her arms. Love bites, red and swollen, covered her breasts as she looked further down. She lifted up the sheet to see cuts on her upper thigh, still bright red and stinging from where she'd taken the sheet off.

She covered herself up again. She knew what she would see, she could feel the pain pulsing through her. She just didn't want to see it.

She edged herself to the side of the bed and wrapped the sheet around her. She could start to hear voices from outside. Seeing a gap through the tent's entrance she pushed herself off the bed and, remembering the glass from last night, slowly made her way to the tent entrance before sitting herself down.

She could see Scabior standing above the camp fire. He was looking down at her scarf. No doubt he enjoyed himself last night. She could see the others going back and forth. There was nothing distinct she could hear. She kept an eye on Scabior though. He stood there, perfectly calm. He seemed in a world of his. Did he have no conscience? Did he have no dignity, no honour, no character? He just stood there, fingering her scarf before bringing it to his nose and inhaling it. Urgh.

'Scabior.' He looked up. She could make out Fenrir Greyback moving into view, clearly not having had a good nights sleep.

'The girl. What to we do with her?'

'Nothin'.'

'Nothing?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry I don't understand,' Fenrir now in clear view. The scars on his face seemed fresh as he closed in on Scabior, Scabior still absorbed with the scarf.

'They left her didn't they?'

'So?' clearly annoyed.

'So if she was really worth somethin' they'd of taken her. Keep her, til we find someone else. Then we go to 'eadquarters.'

'With all respect ...'

'With all respect I don't give a shit about your opinion.' Scabior drawled, finally looking up to match Fenrir's glaring eyes. 'Pack up wolf boy. 10 minutes.'

Scabior turned and started to walk back. Hermione suddenly realised he was walking back to her. She shot up. She panicked. God please don't be angry. She searched around for something to hide her, wincing as glass sank back into her feet. She started to edge away. She could hear him approaching. Her breathing quickened. Her body tensed as the horror of last night hit her again. The pain, the agony, the humiliation.

'Good mornin' beautiful.' He smiled, his arms wide open as if he was Jesus Christ come to save her. 'Bright eyed and ready are we? I like it that way.' winking at her.

'I ...'

'Get changed. We're leavin'.' He started to walk towards the table before stopping. 'Did you drink my drink?'

'No,' Hermione moving over to where her clothes lay on the floor.

'Oh.' He shrugged. Must of been a good night if he couldn't find his drink.

'You'll be pleased to know you're be stayin' with me a bit longer. If yesterday was right you ain't worth as much as everyone thinks,' Scabior's boot running up Hermione's leg as she pulled her shirt over her head before kicking her behind her knees. She fell straight down, swearing as she did.

Bit unladylike. But then, we know how much of a lady you are, don't we.'

He chuckled to himself. He could enjoy this. He hadn't a decent fuck in a while. This girl would give him a few if he was careful. He didn't want another 'zombie'. He liked them kicking and screaming. He watched her struggle to put on her socks. He saw the blood seeping into the bottom of her socks.

'What did you do?' She looked up. What did he think she'd done? It was hard to avoid.

He flourished his wand and pointed it towards her foot. She closed her eyes, fearing another hit. A blue glow surrounded her feet. She opened her eyes in disbelief as the shards of bloodied glass hovered across from her feet before flying out through the tent entrance.

She looked up at Scabior. She was stunned. He couldn't of helped her, could he? She sat there, stupefied as he cleared away the rest of the glass before looking back at her. He almost looked as if he cared. His eyes had softened. There seemed a kind of humanity behind them.

'Can't hav' you slowin' us down there can we.'

Of course. He didn't really feel. He wasn't human in the first place.

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Thank you very much to everyone who's reading the story so far. Glad to know so many of you are enjoying it and let me know how you feel it's going in the reviews.


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